


don't you fret

by captainsourwolf



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attack, angsty shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike finds him in the men’s bathroom. He’s standing over one of the sinks, head bowed, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the edge. He looks tired and the extra wrinkles around his eyes only betray that fact even more. There’s a frown on his face that Mike wishes would go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you fret

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, my first ever Suits fic! I don't really know what this is supposed to be, except maybe a poor attempt at angsty Suits where Mike helps Harvey out and it's all...angsty-ish. Yeah. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Mike finds him in the men’s bathroom. He’s standing over one of the sinks, head bowed, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the edge. He looks tired and the extra wrinkles around his eyes only betray that fact even more. There’s a frown on his face that Mike wishes would go away.

But it’s none of those details that worry him. It’s the way Harvey’s breathing is coming in short, frantic puffs, his chest heaving in and out in a too-fast rhythm that unsettles Mike. He watches for a moment, unsure of what to do. 

“Harvey?” he asks quietly. Harvey’s grip tightens. He raises his head enough to glance at Mike through the mirror. Mike’s eyes widen at the sight of Harvey’s too pale skin and the droplets of sweat dotting his hairline. When Harvey’s head drops, chin to his chest, Mike sighs. 

He hurries over and just kind of hovers there like he doesn’t know what to do next; he’s never dealt with someone having a panic attack before. Harvey’s breathing gets even more erratic, his breaths coming out in stuttering gasps that have Mike even more worried. He’s never seen the older man like this; never seen him so vulnerable and _weak_. On a normal day Harvey would make some joke about being weak, but right now Mike is pretty sure he’s not up to the task of making jokes at anybody’s expense.

Mike tentatively raises a hand to Harvey’s shoulder. Harvey flinches in response but settles once he realizes it’s just Mike. Mike squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, trying not to stand too close so he doesn’t crowd him.

“Harvey,” he whispers, “you need to take deep breaths.” He watches Harvey’s profile intently. 

“Mike—“ Harvey sucks in a breath and tries to let it out slowly. But it comes out short and Mike squeezes his shoulder once more. 

“Deep breaths,” he says again. 

Harvey tries again and this time when he exhales it’s slow and wavering, but there’s still a slight hitch to his breathing. He keeps taking in slow breaths and Mike watches, keeping his hand on Harvey’s shoulder as reassurance that he’s there, that _someone_ is there, helping him. 

He knows that lately everyone in the firm has been on edge, nobody trusting anybody, and with the whole Travis Tanner thing work is nothing but tense. Mike knows that out of everyone though Harvey’s been hit the hardest. It is all about him after all, so Mike isn’t surprised that he’s worn thin and frayed around the edges. 

He’s just never seen Harvey Specter as the type to break down.

Harvey’s breathing has evened out some. The line of his shoulders relaxes just so and Mike can feel the tension leaving his body with every deep breath he takes. Mike keeps murmuring his reassurances, his hand drifting from Harvey’s shoulder, slowly down his arm and stopping to curl his fingers around Harvey’s wrist. 

Harvey’s pulse is fluttering wildly still, but Mike imagines it was five times faster a few minutes ago. He keeps his fingers pressed there, against delicate skin, feeling it when Harvey’s pulse finally slows to a normal pace. Mike watches Harvey’s face. 

“Harvey?”

Harvey closes his eyes and for a moment his lips press tightly together and his brow draws down into a frown, but the moment is gone almost as fast as it came. Mike absently sweeps his thumb once over the top of Harvey’s hand. He flinches away from Mike. 

“I’m fine.” Harvey’s voice is scratchy so he clears it and stands upright. Mike lets go of his wrist and watches as Harvey proceeds to straighten his tie, smooth his hair back, and put on a brave face. 

Mike silently continues to watch Harvey primp and fix himself up in the mirror. But he can still see the tired lines around Harvey’s eyes and the tension set around his mouth. He’s still slightly pale; the tremor in his hands is barely perceptible but it’s there. Mike notices it all but doesn’t say anything. 

Harvey brushes past him. Mike grabs his by the elbow before he can pass, and waits until Harvey finally looks at him. “It’ll be okay,” he says quietly. “You’ll get through this, we all will.” Harvey nods and Mike lets go of him. 

Harvey appears worn down and exhausted as he stands at the door holding onto the handle. But when he opens the door he’s as poised and dignified as ever. 

Mike just watches him go.


End file.
